This weekend I attended the X-Games. By attended I mean I purchased two new outfits and fretted up until the moment we entered the gates that I was wasting valuable work time. At that point I knew nothing about these hardcore sports, except that they closed off many streets in downtown Austin causing me to loose my shit. From that point on however, my shit became all about this thing we once called wood pushing.

I watched as skateboarders dropped in on monstrous ramps and turned tricks through a fabricated skate park. These were normal things. But there were also quite a few unusual things going on. Perhaps as trippy as the high many spectators were most likely experiencing. Like the fact that most of them busted at least five times. Even more unusual was that not one of them was upset by it. And they showed genuine excitement for those competing against them.

All of the sudden things felt much like the time I thought I was watching the basketball finale but really it was the first game of 500 games to qualify a team for the final bracket which could eventually place them in the championship game. So like… it wasn’t even called the finale after all.

Being a cheerleader (shocking, I know) my perception on competing has always been that of a more harsh tone. Our motto was more like: If you weren’t first you should just quit. We HATED any other gym that would be in our category. We even some times hated the girls on other teams in our own gym. We cried the moment a stunt dropped or someone busted in a tumbling pass. And worst of all, we had crazy cheer moms breathing down our necks.

Skating doesn’t. They look to have compassion for the others in their sport. They seem to understand that it isn’t about failure not being an option, but instead knowing failure can be overcome. And most of all they weren’t competing to win, they were producing a masterpiece.

Skating is like the smart girl in your math class. Really cool and pretty under the glasses, but usually looked over because of them too.

It’s safe to say I have a new found respect for the Van wearing fellas that once roamed those middle school halls. And kind of wish I would have taken more seriously the meaning behind that pink studded belt purchased in bulk from PacSun. Wood Pushers really know where it’s at.